Holding Out
by Tarafina
Summary: Dean Winchester had an uncanny ability to make her do things she'd rarely do. :Chloe/Dean:


**Title**: Holding Out  
**Category**: Smallville/Supernatural  
**Rating**: T**  
Genre**: Romance  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Dean  
**Prompt**: #05 - Whimper  
**Word Count**: 928  
**Summary**: Dean Winchester had an uncanny ability to make her do things she'd rarely do.

**Holding Out  
**1/1

Dean Winchester had an uncanny ability to make her do things she'd rarely do.

Chloe Sullivan was not new to sex, although she hadn't had near as many partners as Dean had. And her encounters with men, or well, the one man, were always satisfying, well except for that one time. But that doesn't matter. The point is, when she first met Dean, her first thought was, "Sex." He just screamed the word. He was rugged, handsome, cocky, and all-too-knowledgeable of the fact that he was damn attractive for it. But she refused to give in to those urges, absolutely refused to become another notch on his bedpost.

And being Dean, that only made him work harder.

With a simply brush of his fingers against the back of his neck, he made her bite her lip to stop the shivers from running down her body. By leaning in, his hot breath skittering over her ear as he whispered nothing in particular, just felt like being close, she had to force her eyes to stay open before they fluttered shut. Even just his hand splayed over the small of her back, a possessive action that he habitually made whenever they walked in public, it always made her walk closer and lean into him. Her body was just plain traitorous, she decided.

He was sitting behind her and she couldn't remember exactly how it played out but after Sam left for dinner, she ended up stretched between his legs on the edge of the bed, staring sightlessly at the TV. When she'd joined up with their exclusive hunting team, she never really expected it to lead to any sort of cat and mouse game with either of them. She saw Sam more as a brother or best friend, the understanding one who she could lean on and sob about just about anything. Whereas Dean was the fiery and passionate brother that left her wanting, that made her want what she knew she shouldn't. He was dangerous, to her heart at the very least, and she shouldn't give in. She should get up, walk away, and pretend she was unaffected. But she _couldn't_.

He slid up behind her, his front pressed to her back, so hot and hard. And then his hands were sliding up her arms, slow and lingering until they ran over her shoulders and began kneading them, getting each and every knot out with tender interest. She leaned into the familiar touch, calloused fingers and warm hands, the comfort of his body against hers. It was wrong that she knew it by touch, could probably draw him just by thought alone, if she had any kind of artistic talent. And his smell, intoxicating as it wrapped around her like a lover's embrace.

His hands slid up her neck, fingers tracing the sides of her face before he pulled her hair back, tugged lightly and she fell into him, her head landing on his shoulder as if she had lost all strength. He smirked down at her, but it was softer than usual. "You still gonna pretend you don't want me, Blondie?"

She licked her lips. "I _don't_ want you Dean."

"Liar," he breathed, his lips so close she could feel phantom brushes of them against hers. His forefinger ran down her cheek. "What do you think I'm gonna do? Pretend it never happened?" He raised a brow. "Little hard to do with you on the road with us..."

"You're not a commitment guy," she reminded, her tone far too breathy for her liking.

"Maybe I could be." He stroked the skin beneath her eye, thumb brushing her lashes. "Maybe I wanna be."

She reached up, let her fingers run down his face, felt her heart skip a beat as his eyes fell shut. Maybe he really did want her, more than she ever expected him to. She'd always assumed it was just a game for him; that he enjoyed chasing after her. But maybe, just maybe... He loved her too. God, when did she let _that _happen? It felt so long ago and yet still so fresh.

"And what do I get if I give in?" she murmured, a teasing tone escaping her.

His lips curled, eyes opening to stare into hers once more, more green than brown now. "Anything I can give."

She wrapped a hand around his neck, leaning in closer, her lips brushing his ear. "Make me whimper," she whispered.

She felt his arm tighten around her and before she could take a breath, she was sprawled out beneath him, his body covering hers, her knees lifted, cradling him close. "I can definitely do that," he promised, eyes darkening.

She bit her lip, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him in close. "Prove it."

He winked and as she felt her jeans being dragged away, his hands caressing her thighs, the back of her knees, her hips and everywhere but where he knew she wanted him to touch, she was fully aware of just how much he _would _make her whimper. She was glad she held out; the reward in the end was going to be so worth it. As his lips touched her navel, soft and tender, she knew she was no notch but a real possibility for something so much more. She felt sorry for all the women before her, they only got a small taste of Dean, while she'd be getting the entire package, over and over again, for as long as either of them could go. Forever sounded good.


End file.
